The Christmas Cabin
by ulstergirl
Summary: Written for Nancy Drew Yuletide 2014! Nancy and Ned persuade their parents to rent neighboring cabins during the first winter break in their relationship.


**Mild suggestive content/language.**

* * *

At the end of their first full day, Nancy is too excited to sleep. It's an unfamiliar bed in what is still an unfamiliar room; the cabin is in the mountains, and as far as she can tell, only their cabin and the one beside it are occupied. The other two in the cluster stand apart and vacant.

Nancy's father sleeps downstairs; Nancy is in the small upstairs loft. The cabin is neat and tidy, walls and floors of pine, a real fireplace in the living room, a tiny kitchen, cubbyholes for games and toys. The beds are firm and made up with rustic-looking quilts, and she needs every one of them to keep warm—though after ten minutes, she's cuddled up and cozy enough to sleep.

But, for her, the most important feature of the cabin is how close it is to the somewhat larger one next door.

She and Ned hatched the plan at the beginning of November: convince their parents to take them on a vacation during the winter break, and make sure they coordinated it so they could spend that vacation together. They hadn't been able to bear the idea of Nancy spending it with her father and her aunt in New York, and losing all that time they could have been together; it is their six-month anniversary, after all. Though Nancy has no intention of telling her father that. He is indulgent, but he has taken to teasing her a little about Ned, her first real boyfriend.

She will be sixteen in a few months, and Ned just turned seventeen, and she loves him with a whole, unbroken heart.

Her father seems to be genuinely enjoying the trip, though. Today Ned's mother invited them over for lunch—she worked miracles in the correspondingly tiny kitchen in their rented cabin—and they had a snowball fight. Then Ned's father and Nancy's father accompanied them on a little hike while Ned's mother relaxed and tidied up the cabin and prepared dinner. The views from the trails near their cabins are stunning, and they took a few pictures, the sunset their backdrop.

Nancy promised to help Ned's mother the next day while Ned and their fathers take a fishing trip at the nearby lake. Nancy's father likes Ned, and she hopes they can bond and get to know each other while they're fishing.

Maybe it's the sugar making her so jittery, she thinks. Ned's mother served rich decadent brownies for dessert and they made snow cream, and she just can't sleep, not with the stars hanging overhead like cold diamonds.

Then she realizes. She and Ned haven't really been able to find any way to be alone together. Oh, they have stolen moments here and there, even a few kisses, but she's self-conscious about being affectionate with him while their parents are sure to be watching. And she's glad their parents agreed to take them on this trip, and she's glad to be spending the time with him—but she can't help wanting to be alone with him.

She tries hard, though. She tries to read a new mystery novel she brought with her, but she can't make it past the second page. She tries to sleep, but at every creak or groan, every sigh of the wind as it rattles around the house, her eyes pop open again.

Finally she bundles into another pair of heavy pants and a sweatshirt, heavy socks and her boots, and zips up her down parka. Her father sleeps pretty soundly, and besides, she isn't going far. From the porch, she can see the stars and the swiftly-clouding sky, and if smoke is coming out of the Nickersons' cabin's chimney. If a light is on in the upstairs loft there.

Rocking chairs are arranged on the porch opposite when she steps out, but she can't see anything in the deep shadow. The rocking chair on their cabin's porch is bitterly cold even through all her layers, and she finds herself wishing for a blanket.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

She isn't surprised, not really, when she hears Ned's low, knowing voice. "Can't imagine why," she replies, keeping her voice down too.

She crosses the strip of snow-blanketed dead leaves and pale grass between their cabins, climbing the steps to the porch. When he gestures for her to sit down in the same chair, she pauses, then sits down. He wraps his arm around her back and she rests her head against his shoulder. All the exposed skin on her face is freezing, but she can bear it for a while if it means being so close to him.

"I'm so glad we were able to do this."

"Me too," she tells him with a smile. "It's been a lot of fun."

"And you don't want to come fishing tomorrow?"

"Mmm. I don't like it that much," she admits. "Sorry. Besides, it will be nice to hang out with your mom. She seems pretty cool."

"She is pretty cool," Ned agrees, then reaches up and pats her cheek. "Wow. You're freezing, aren't you."

"It is pretty cold out here."

"Well then. Let me be chivalrous and offer to make you some cocoa."

"I don't know..."

"Please?"

She isn't hungry or thirsty, but she _does_ want to spend more time with him. She follows him inside, quietly, afraid they will wake his parents, but they settle on the couch in front of the fireplace and just talk, with Ned resting against one of the couch's arms and Nancy leaning against his other side, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her. She feels safe and happy, that restlessness gone.

They talk about Christmas and seeing each other that day, and when Nancy mentions presents Ned pretends he has entirely forgotten about buying her anything, but she knows better. She knows he grilled Bess thoroughly three weeks ago, because she got it out of Bess two weeks ago. They talk about school, about the last movies they saw, movies they want to see. They talk until she's finally drowsy, until she knows that she needs to summon the energy to return to her cabin before she can't move at all.

"I'll have to get you to walk me home," she comments, a lazy smile crossing her face as she begins to push herself up. "I don't know if I can make it by myself."

"I don't know. It looks really cold," he replies, with his own smile.

And when they do go to the door, it is snowing, in slow fat flakes that drift down so thick she can barely make out the shape of their cabin. Her eyes widen; it's not so far, she'll be fine...

Ned reaches for her hand and gives it a little squeeze. "I don't know," he murmurs again. "You could stay here."

"My father..."

"This is the first place he'll look for you in the morning," Ned points out. "Besides, you can just say you came over for an early breakfast before we left." She can hear the excitement creeping into his voice as he tries to convince himself it will work—and she's so tired and so reluctant to leave that his idea doesn't sound entirely crazy. "Please?"

She opens her mouth and closes it again without saying anything. She doesn't know what to say.

Actually, she knows exactly what she is _supposed_ to say. She also knows that she doesn't want to say it.

Ned releases a long breath in something that is almost a sigh. "I'm sorry. Let me get my coat..."

She reaches for his hand. "You... I'd sleep on the couch?"

He swallows audibly. "Of course not. I'd offer you my bed."

"And you on the couch? That hardly seems fair."

"But I could hardly expect you to keep your hands to yourself, Miss Drew."

She chuckles, glancing up at him. "Really? _I'm_ the one you're worried about?"

"So you will totally keep to your side of the bed all night. Cross your heart." Ned's eyes are twinkling and it's hard for her to understand how they got here. He's just teasing, she knows he is... but their hands are still joined.

"That's not..." She shakes her head. "I... That wouldn't be a good idea."

"If it's just that you're uncomfortable with it, that's one thing." Then he leans down and whispers in her ear. "But my girlfriend is brave and smart, and we can set an alarm that'll go off before anyone else is awake. We can do this, if we want to. If you want to."

She opens her mouth, and even she is faintly surprised by her answer. "Okay."

His bed is in the loft too, a full-sized mattress made up with plaid quilts. Her mouth is dry as she takes off her boots, her outer layers, but keeps her long-sleeved henley and flannel pants on. Ned wears shorts and a t-shirt, and she's convinced he's going to freeze.

They walk to the bed together, and exchange a glance. "You can change your mind," he murmurs. "I can sleep downstairs..."

"No," she replies. "I mean—this is fine. This is okay. We're just going to sleep."

He nods at the slight inflection in her voice. "Just sleep."

Her heart still skips a beat when she slides into the bed, hissing at the cold radiating from the sheets. "Are you sure you don't want to put some more on?" she asks, her teeth chattering.

Ned smiles. "I'll be all right, you'll see," he tells her, moving into the bed too. "But if my teeth chatter too, will you cuddle up with me to keep me warm?"

"Will you?"

"Don't have to ask me twice," he murmurs, and pulls her into his arms. She relaxes against his chest, and her heart is beating so fast. She still can't quite believe this is happening. "Mmm. You really are freezing, honey."

He rubs her back and where they are in contact, she feels warm. Heat radiates off him, and her eyelids drift down.

"Better now," she murmurs. "G'night."

"Good night, Nan."

The next morning they wake up early, still wrapped in each other's arms, and tell each other a bashful hello before they slowly drag themselves out of bed. Nancy dresses and picks up an armful of firewood to explain why she's entering the cabin so early, and then she and her father return to the Nickersons' cabin for breakfast.

Nancy falls in love with all of them. Ned's mother is calm and assured in the kitchen, and has the confidence of years of experience. The more time they spend together, the more Nancy's heart aches. Ned's mother is exactly the kind of mother she wishes she still had.

They take day trips in the mountains, build snowmen and play board games, and Nancy and Edith bond while the guys are watching sports; they play cards and watch movies, and slowly Nancy becomes more comfortable with snuggling up to Ned on the couch, his arm around her shoulders. She still doesn't want to kiss him in front of his parents, though.

And every night, they meet on the porch and talk for a little while, and then she goes up to his bed in the loft and they fall asleep in each other's arms. One night they kiss for a little while, and the next night they kiss a little longer, but she doesn't feel afraid. Ned wouldn't hurt her or push her; she believes that with all her heart. She's never shared a bed with a guy before, and it's nice to cuddle up with him, to feel him stroke her hair and her back as she falls asleep.

The morning of their last full day in the mountains, Nancy slowly opens her eyes and sees Ned's sleeping face, haloed by the sunlight streaming through the small window in the loft. "Mmm. Good morning," she whispers.

Ned's brow furrows a little as he wakes up too, lifting a fist to rub sleep out of his eyes. "Hey," he murmurs.

Then he opens his eyes wide. "Oh no," he breathes.

The sun is up. Which means their parents are likely awake.

All three of them are sitting at the small table in the kitchen, in full view of the stairs from the loft. All three have cups of coffee in front of them, and matching stern looks. "Good morning," Nancy's father says, and Nancy blushes to the roots of her hair, her stomach sinking through the floor.

"Dad, I'm sorry—I'm really sorry—"

"It's my fault," Ned says, brushing his hand through his hair. He's holding her hand. "I... I talked her into staying over here. It's not her fault."

Nancy swallows hard, her gaze still down. "He didn't talk me into anything," she murmurs. "I'm sorry."

"Were you two doing anything inappropriate?" Ned's father asks.

Nancy's blush is so deep she can feel her pulse in her cheeks; she and Ned both shake their heads, eyes wide. "No, sir," she says.

"Nothing—happened," Ned says.

Nancy's father looks into both their faces. "Good."

"And nothing will," Ned's father says. "Right?"

"Right. Sir." Nancy's gaze drops to the floor again.

"Right."

When Nancy finds the strength to look up again, she sees Ned's mother's eyes—and they're twinkling.

They don't talk about it for the rest of the day, when Ned's parents invite Nancy and her father to come to their family gathering on Christmas day if they want, when Nancy and Ned talk about where they will watch the countdown to the new year. They don't talk about it while they're roasting marshmallows and making s'mores to order for their parents, but every time their eyes meet, Nancy feels ashamed and a little defiant. She knows their parents will definitely catch them if they try to see each other tonight; she's equally sure that she won't be able to sleep, if not in his arms.

She says as much when they're quietly saying good night to each other, while Nancy's father is zipping up his coat. "I'm going to miss you too," Ned says softly. "But I suppose we were going to need to get used to it anyway. Not that I want to."

He draws her out onto the porch with him, and they stand beneath the overhang; a light snow is falling around them, and when Ned cups the back of her head she tips her chin back, waiting for his kiss. His cheek is warm against hers, his breath, his lips—and she flushes with pleasure when his tongue slips into her mouth.

A cough behind them separates them, but not before Ned presses one more soft kiss against her lips. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," she whispers, and then he pulls back.

"Good night, Ned."

"Good night, Mr. Drew."

Back in their cabin, Nancy blushes as soon as her father closes the door behind them. "Dad... I'm sorry. I am. Are you mad at me?"

"This wasn't the first time, was it."

Nancy looks down and can't reply.

"I didn't think it was. Were you two honest this morning? Nothing—happened?"

"Nothing happened," she whispers.

He pats her shoulder. "I know you and Ned are going to have opportunities to be together like this again," he says. "Honey... just be careful, okay? I know that maybe it's easy to... to forget about consequences. I just don't want you to be hurt."

_Ned would never hurt me._ She brings her head up and looks into her father's eyes, but she can't say it; she just knows it with all her heart. "Are you upset?" she whispers.

Her father sighs and shakes his head. "I'm disappointed that you felt you had to sneak out, but then again..." He hangs up his coat. "No, Nan. I'm not upset with you. I trust your judgement, and for as long as Ned respects you, I'll trust his, too. Don't make me regret this, though. I'm not ready to be a grandfather yet."

"Dad!" Nancy blushes again, hurrying out of the room.

That night, in her bed, Nancy sighs and tosses and turns, trying to sleep. If she could put it out of her head, maybe she could finally relax... but she can't. And their windows don't even face each other. They're just facing the same way.

Maybe he is awake just as she is. Maybe.

With a sigh she opens the window, and the air is so cold it burns, still studded with snowflakes. She pokes her head out—and sees him doing the same thing, but the shadows and darkness shroud him, and they are too far apart to call to each other. She waves and he waves back, but she pulls her hand back quickly. She's shivering in her pajamas.

She can't be with him. Not tonight. But they will find another way, another night.

Struck by sudden inspiration, she runs to her duffel bag and pulls out a small flashlight she brought with her. She holds it out the window and flashes it in his direction, once.

He vanishes, and it takes him a minute but he returns with a flashlight too.

_Love u miss u_ she spells out in Morse code.

_Love u miss u too_ she sees him spell out in reply.

_Cannot sleep_

_Me either - you must be freezing_

_Yes_

_Will see u in morning_

_OK_

They both turn their flashlights off, and when she smiles, she could swear that he smiles back.

_Sleep well_ he signals her.

_U too_ she signals back.

* * *

Twenty-one years later, Nancy and Ned are bundled under a pile of heavy blankets in the cabin Ned's parents rented six months after they started dating. They aren't in the loft this time, though; instead, they are downstairs in the master bedroom. The owner is different now and the appliances have been updated, but the view is the same.

And Ned is just as warm as she remembers, and now when they tangle around each other it is with no self-consciousness, with the ease of years together. Drew has the loft bedroom, and Katie and Helen are on the bunk beds on the landing.

The cabin next door is occupied by Drew's girlfriend Beth and her grandmother; Beth's mother died when she was a baby, and her grandmother raised her. Drew turned sixteen over the summer; Beth's sixteenth birthday was a month ago.

Nancy and Ned went to bed a little earlier than usual to give their children and Beth time to spend together, but the movie they turned on to watch in their small bedroom was boring and they made love quietly instead of watching it, giggling together like teenagers, wrapped around each other.

Now he's drawing spirals on her back and she has as much of her body in contact with him as she can, shivering whenever she moves against the cold sheets. Katie is fourteen and Helen is twelve, and the girls are begging them to rent a larger cabin next year so they can invite their friends because it is _so cool _and they love it.

"Remember when we were here?"

"Of course," she murmurs, and kisses his collarbone. "I loved it, but what I loved most was being able to spend all that time with you."

"Exactly." He slips his hand under her nightshirt and strokes the small of her back. "And Drew's about the same age I was..."

"And Beth's about the same age I was," Nancy murmurs.

They hear Katie and Helen go to bed; they hear Drew and Beth's murmured voices. And then, Nancy's almost asleep when they hear Drew on the steps up to the loft—and Beth's soft chuckle. The cabin is so quiet otherwise, with their television muted and the wind outside the only other sound.

Nancy pushes herself up and looks into her husband's eyes. She raises an eyebrow. "Should we..."

"Should we what?" Ned murmurs. "Go up there and embarrass the hell out of them? Or..."

"Or do what our parents did," she says, and her eyes widen. "Oh my God, Ned. Do you think they knew? The whole time?"

He chuckles and strokes her hair from her face. "Maybe. Probably."

She shakes her head and relaxes against him again. "We thought we were being so clever."

"And I bet they think they are, too." He kisses the crown of her head. "It's tricky, being the grown-ups."

She chuckles. "But we raised him well," she murmurs. "Maybe he'll be a gentleman, like you were."

"You mean completely in awe of the fact that my beautiful sweet girlfriend was actually asleep in my arms, in her pajamas and cuddled up against me? I didn't want to sleep and miss a minute of it."

"And now you're so excited to see me when you get home that you fall asleep in front of the TV." She giggles when Ned tickles her ribs. "Eek! Stop it!"

"Between baseball practice, basketball practice, tennis and scouts and study sessions, I'm worn out by the time I get home," Ned protests. "It's hard work raising _one_ of us. Raising _three_?"

"Well, as I recall, it wasn't just _my_ decision."

He leans down and kisses her, long and lingering. "And I wouldn't take it back for worlds."

Once they settle back into each other's arms, Nancy closes her eyes. "Maybe they'll grow up and come back here too," she murmurs.

"Maybe." Ned snuggles a little further under the covers. "Love you, Nan."

"Love you," she says with a smile. "Always have, and always will."


End file.
